


sit down, breathe, and just listen

by playedwright



Category: Love Simon (2018), Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda - Becky Albertalli
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Romance, oblivious idiots, thats it thats the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 13:01:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14497530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/playedwright/pseuds/playedwright
Summary: Bram has been acting weird.Like, weird enough that Simon actually picked up on it, weird. Which is saying something, since Simon is the most oblivious person on the planet.





	sit down, breathe, and just listen

**Author's Note:**

> this took way too long to write but it might be one of the softest things i've ever created so. enjoy!

Bram has been acting weird.

 

Like, weird enough that Simon  _ actually  _ picked up on it, weird. Which is saying something, since Simon is the most oblivious person on the planet.

 

So Simon plans a surprise. Bram has been incredibly stressed as of late, with deadlines and job applications looming in the near future. In typical Bram fashion, he’d thrown himself into studying and preparing; but it had made him jittery. He jumps every time Simon walks into the room, and he always looks wide-eyed. Simon has half the mind to cut off his coffee supply. He won’t, because he’s not a monster, but he’s thinking about it.

 

Anyway. He plans a surprise. It’s been a while since they’ve had a chance to  _ actually  _ go out on a date, both swamped with work and school things and busy with being practical adults. But it doesn’t take much to get a reservation at Bram’s favorite restaurant. It doesn’t take much to dress up in a nice suit, to brush his hair, and to bring home a bouquet of roses. He kisses Bram on the cheek when he enters their apartment, and Bram takes the flowers and looks hopefully at him while Simon drags him away from work and pushes him towards their room to change.

 

It’s a simple night, nothing big. Bram’s shoulders are tense the entire time. Simon reaches across the table and twines his fingers through his boyfriend’s.

 

“Relax,” he murmurs. Bram lets out a breathless laugh. “Just enjoy tonight. We’re here to escape all that shitty adulting stuff, remember?”

 

“Right,” Bram breathes.

 

He holds Simon’s hand just a bit too tight as they walk through the city after dinner.

 

And when Simon pulls him to a stop so that he can kiss Bram until he feels the tension leave Bram’s shoulders, well. It’s mostly for unselfish reasons. It’s been six years now, and Simon used to think that one day he’d get used to the way Bram made him feel, to the way that Bram’s kisses ignited something in the center of his heart, to the way that he never stopped worrying or wanting or wishing when it came to Bram. He’s proved wrong, every day. But he doesn’t mind.

 

“Simon?” Bram whispers, as they lay next to one another that night, legs entangled, fingers twined, heartbeats synced.

 

Simon kisses his nose.

 

“Are you—” Bram starts. He frowns, then, and shakes his head.

 

“Everything okay, B?” Simon whispers. He runs his thumb along Bram’s knuckles, pulls Bram just a little bit closer, simple things in a small attempt to comfort him.

 

Bram smiles, soft, sure. Simon’s favorite. “Everything is perfect. Go to bed, Si.”

 

And, well. Bram has a point. Everything  _ is  _ kind of perfect. Some days, Simon can’t believe this is actually his life. This life, with their crappy one bedroom apartment and rickety old car, and extensive book and record collection that only keeps growing—their mismatched dishes, the noisy neighbors, the sounds of the city outside their window. And this: the world’s most amazing guy, in Simon’s bed, holding him and  _ loving  _ him and telling him that everything… is perfect.

 

Simon  _ loves  _ it.

  
  


Even if Bram is still acting weird the next morning.

 

Simon wakes up late—not surprising, to say the least. The bed is cold but the apartment smells warm, which means Bram  _ cooked  _ something, and the possibility of that is enough to draw Simon out of bed. Bram sits at the counter, doing the crossword, and the timer on the oven reads  _ two minutes _ .

 

“What did you make,” Simon breathes. The corner of Bram’s mouth turns up.

 

“Cinnamon rolls. Coffee is in the pot.”

 

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Simon sighs. He kisses Bram’s forehead as he walks by. Bram just chuckles, and goes back to filling out the crossword. It takes him a minute to register the music playing faintly. He glances over at the record player. “What is this?”

 

Bram blinks. “ _ Marry Me A Little _ .”

 

“From Company?”

 

Bram’s eye twitches. “Yeah, that’s the one.”

 

Simon cracks a grin. “I love that you listen to songs from musicals. That’s so nerdy and cute, my influence must be so strong.”

 

“I listened to showtunes before we started dating, Simon.”

 

“Yeah, but  _ Company _ ,” Simon says happily. He kisses Bram. “You’re so damn cute. How did I get so lucky, how is this my life?”

 

Bram laughs breathlessly. His eyes are wide, and beautiful, and Simon is so, so in love with him. It doesn’t even phase him when Bram makes a face and says, “I ask myself the same question every day.”

 

Like honestly. How is Simon this lucky?

 

 

* * *

 

 

Bram’s still acting weird.

 

He’s—twitchy. He startles every time Simon so much as looks at him. And maybe the weirdest thing of all, he’s been listening to music  _ a lot. _

 

It’s probably weird that Simon finds it weird. It’s not like Bram doesn’t listen to music. He does, a lot, but usually alone or with headphones or quiet enough that it doesn’t disturb anything else. But lately, he’s being playing it as long as possible—through his phone speaker, through their record player, humming under his breath. Songs that Simon recognizes, but a lot that he doesn’t. More often than not, Simon will wander through the apartment and Bram will tense up and blink at Simon, like he’s expecting something.

 

“Is this Bruno Mars?” Simon asks once, laughing as he collapses on the bed next to Bram. Bram flushes but doesn’t look away from his book. Simon lays down so he can rest his head on Bram’s thigh. “This song is the most cliche thing ever, right? Like, it was cute, then it got played at every wedding ever, then the hype died down, and now it’s like the same basic wedding love song. It’s practically on the same level as  _ Can’t Help Falling In Love.  _ Like, we get it, no one else in the history of ever has felt this way.”

 

Bram twitches. “I don’t know,” he says easily. “I think there’s something sweet about how cliche it is.”

 

_ Is it the look in your eyes, or is it this dancing juice? _

 

Simon rolls his eyes. “It’s cute that you think this is romantic.”

 

He can feel Bram’s laughter before he hears it. When Simon shifts so he can look at his boyfriend, Bram’s eyes are crinkled and his smile is bright and Simon’s heart is  _ full.  _ “We can’t all be wooed by the likes of Elliott Smith, baby.”

 

Simon presses a kiss to the fabric of Bram’s jeans, since that’s the only thing he can really reach. Bram runs his fingers through Simon’s hair, and they’re content, for a while.

 

The song switches, and instead of Bruno Mars, Darlene Love’s voice fills the room, and Simon can’t even stop the laugh that bubbles out of him. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to tell me something,” Simon teases.

 

Bram tugs slightly on Simon’s hair, shifting his head to catch his eye. “Well, I didn’t meet the boy I’m gonna marry  _ today _ , but I definitely hoped one day we’d get to that point when I met him,” Bram admits, quietly, shyly, and— _ oh. _

 

He stretches as best as he can, but Bram meets him halfway. It’s not the best angle. Simon doesn’t care. He reaches up to touch Bram’s face and holds on tightly.

 

Bram still kisses like Elliott Smith sings, even after all these years, but today his kisses feel like the way Darlene Love sings  _ with every kiss, oh this is it _ — _ as if my heart keeps saying today I met the boy I'm gonna marry. _

 

And Simon didn’t meet Bram today, and he definitely didn’t realize he wanted to marry Bram today—he’s known that for about two thousand days—but the words ring true, regardless. He wants this to be his life, from here on out, forever. 

 

He shifts so that he can cuddle against Bram’s side, and pulls out his phone while Bram continues reading. It’s perfect, even if it’s a night they’ve had so many times before, and Simon is content.

 

He falls asleep with an idea.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Will you drive me to work?” Bram asks quietly, pressing a kiss to Simon’s cheek as he walks by. Simon blinks.

 

“Sure,” he says slowly. “Why?”

 

“I’m running late, I don’t want to risk it with the bus,” Bram explains. He looks rumpled, which just proves how late he is running. His curls are still a little wet. Simon reaches up to fix his collar and smiles reassuringly.

 

“Give me two minutes, do you want to go start the car?”

 

Bram squeezes his hand.

 

It takes him just under two minutes to grab his bag and his shoes, and Bram is sitting in the passenger seat scrolling through his phone when Simon climbs in. Bram gives him a soft smile; even after all these years, Simon still feels breathless when Bram smiles at him like that. Maybe it’s cheesy, maybe it’s fate. But Simon hopes he never stops seeing that smile.

 

“Ooh,  _ Waitress  _ today?” Simon says happily. “You’re in a very showtune-y mood recently.”

 

Bram shrugs. “Is it corny if I tell you I love  _ you  _ like a table?”

 

Simon grins. “It’s super corny but you can say it to me a thousand times. Except, if we’re being realistic—I’d be Ogie in this scenario, and you’d be Dawn. I mean, have you  _ seen  _ how dorky that guy is? And Dawn writing 29 different drafts of vows? That’s pretty much written about you.”

 

“Hey!” Bram laughs. His ears are dark with blush. “I mean. It’s true, but hey.”

 

Simon starts the car, and as soon as they’re on the road he twines his fingers through Bram’s. Bram taps out the beat of Dawn’s drumline against Simon’s fingers, and Simon hums along. The song switches to something from  _ West Side Story,  _ and Simon doesn’t even hide his surprise as he turns to glance at Bram.

 

Bram just winks back.

 

“Continuing the theme of wedding-related songs, I see,” Simon laughs. He squeezes Bram’s hand in teasing and starts singing along, mostly under his breath.

 

“Seems so,” Bram says, so quietly Simon nearly doesn’t hear him. Bram’s mouth twitches.

 

They don’t say much for the rest of the ride, which isn’t long. Bram idly plays with Simon’s fingers and stares out the window, clearly deep in thought. When Simon parks the car in front of the curb of Bram’s building, he kisses Bram’s fingers. “Have a good day, babe,” he says softly. Bram grins at him.

 

“You too, love.”

 

He stays for a second, watches as Bram quickly makes his way into the building and shuts the door behind him. Then he realizes with a start that he’s been smiling like an idiot for no apparent reason. Simon shakes his head and puts the car back into drive. Then he glances at the time, and makes a hasty decision.

 

He’s twenty minutes late for work.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The funny thing is, Bram is  _ still  _ acting weird.

 

Simon asks him if it’s something at work that’s been going on, and Bram looks at him in confusion.

 

“You’ve been so strange lately,” Simon comments. “Like… jumpy and twitchy. And you’re quieter than usual. It’s like we’ve reverted you back to junior year Bram. Pre-Bram.”

 

“Pre-Bram?” he smiles. 

 

“Pre-Simon Bram,” Simon adds.

 

“You’re ridiculous.”

 

Simon pouts. “You still love me though. And you’re missing the point, you’re being weird. Is it something at work? Something with your dad? What’s going on?”

 

Bram shakes his head. “You still ramble as much as you did back then,” he teases. “Work is fine. My family is fine. I’ve just been in my own head a bit too much recently. I’m okay, I promise.”

 

Simon reaches forward and twines his fingers through Bram’s. “You know you can tell me anything,” he reminds him.

 

“I know. There’s not much I don’t tell you.”

 

“Okay,” Simon whispers. He lets it drop. “How was the internship?”

 

And Bram lights up. “It was good. Today I met with this one kid, the firm is going to represent her case. She’s homeless right now so she’s staying at the center but we started talking about everything. We actually started talking about theatre—she performs, and she’s over the moon about that new show  _ Head Over Heels _ . She was impressed with my knowledge.”

 

“Did you tell her everything you know you owe to your super cute, dorky boyfriend?” Simon asks.

 

“No, but I did tell her my taste in musicals has gotten worse because of you.”

 

“ _ Hey! _ ” Simon laughs. He flicks a half-cooked noodle at Bram. “My taste in musicals is excellent. You’re just jealous I find out about all the cool ones before you do.”

 

Bram grins. “Yeah, that’s it.”

 

Simon winks.

 

“She told me we need to watch  _ The Last Five Years _ ,” Bram says carefully. “She couldn’t believe we hadn’t seen it yet.”

 

Simon makes a face. “The guy is a dirtbag in that movie, that’s why we haven’t watched it yet.”

 

Bram rolls his eyes. “You’ve made your dislike for Jeremy Jordan’s character very clear, love, you don’t have to repeat it to me. But the music is still really good. Plus, she said it has one of the most romantic love songs she’s ever heard.”

 

Simon raises an eyebrow.

 

“One of  _ her  _ favorite romantic love songs,” Bram amends. “Wait, let me pull it up.”

 

“Nooo,” Simon groans, but he’s smiling as Bram pulls out his phone and searches for the song. “I can't believe I’m listening to  _ The Last Five Years  _ for you.”

 

“You must really like me.”

 

_ Something like that,  _ Simon thinks. He’s silent as the song starts to play through Bram’s phone speakers, a soft and melancholy tune, focusing on the sauce for the pasta and Bram’s breathing and a thousand things and nothing all at once.

 

“I guess this is the only time they sing together,” Bram says quietly. “Every other song is sung solo, but for this they finally come together.”

 

Simon perks up. “Oh?”

 

“Of course you’re interested now that you know it’s weird,” Bram teases. He’s smiling slightly, bordering on mysterious, and something in his expression softens as Jamie sings,  _ will you share your life with me? _

 

“This is sad,” Simon says softly.

 

“I think that’s the point,” murmurs Bram. They let the song continue—Simon cooks, and Bram flips idly through an article, but both of them are caught on the words of the song as Jamie and Cathy make vows to one another. As it ends, still soft and bittersweet, Simon turns and catches Bram’s eye.

 

There’s an emotion bubbling in his chest, something unidentifiable, and the words he wants to say catch in his throat. Bram looks like he’s feeling the same thing—Simon thinks this could be a moment, something big. It’s potential.

 

He’s just cooking dinner.

 

But something feels different.

 

“We should watch the movie,” Simon finally says. He looks away.

 

Bram laughs softly. “Okay.”

 

When Simon drains the noodles, Bram stands up from his chair and presses a kiss to Simon’s neck before excusing himself. Absentmindedly, Simon hums as he finishes assembling the dinner. Some song Bram had been listening to earlier, or maybe singing himself. It’s familiar, even though Simon can’t quite place it. He doesn’t notice Bram come back into the room, too busy setting the table and dishing up up pasta.

 

“Oh,” Bram says. Simon startles.

 

“Dinner’s ready.”

 

Bram just blinks at Simon and doesn’t move. “What were you singing?” he asks. Simon stares at him, confused at the question.

 

“Uh—I don’t know. Something you were listening to earlier, I only remember the tune,” Simon answers. He furrows his brow and straightens up. Then he says slowly, “Why?”

 

Bram pinches the bridge of his nose. “ _ Marry Me. _ ”

 

“What?!”

 

“By Train,” continues Bram. He looks at Simon. “That’s the song.  _ Marry Me,  _ by Train.”

 

Simon slaps his forehead. “Oh, yeah! Man, I used to be obsessed with that song, I can’t believe I didn’t know that. Did I ever tell you about my Train phase? It was around the same time as my Panic! phase—”

 

“Oh my  _ Christ _ , Simon, are you ever going to propose?!” Bram blurts out.

 

Simon looks up in shock.

 

Bram slaps a hand over his mouth.

 

“I—what?” Simon asks. His heart is pounding in his chest.

 

Bram looks down. His cheeks are dark with embarrassment, and Simon wants to reach forward and grab Bram’s hands so he’ll stop wringing them. But he stays where he is, frozen in shock at Bram’s question. “I’m sorry,” Bram says quietly. “I thought I was being so obvious. I found the ring in your sock drawer awhile ago. I thought I was going to go insane with waiting.”

 

Simon can’t help it. He starts to giggle. Bram looks at him, kind of hurt, and Simon just smiles reassuringly and stumbles over his own feet as he walks to Bram before crushing him into a hug. He’s still laughing, even as he feels the tension drop out of Bram’s shoulders. “And you call me the monumental idiot,” Simon breathes. He pulls away. “Bram, that ring wasn’t for me. I was holding it for Cal, because Garrett is the nosiest person on the planet and Cal doesn’t trust him not to accidentally find it.”

 

“Oh.  _ Oh. _ ” Bram looks embarrassed. Simon presses his thumb along Bram’s cheekbone until he looks up again. “Cal and Garrett, huh?”

 

“About damn time, if you ask me.”

 

“That’s true.”

 

Simon smiles. “Is that what all the music has been about?”

 

And Bram blushes  _ again,  _ and instead of responding he just turns his head so he can press a kiss to Simon’s palm. “I thought it was an easier way to let you know I was thinking about it, too. I was pretty sure it was glaringly obvious. But as much as I’m an idiot, you’re extremely oblivious.”

 

“We’ve known that for years,” Simon says dismissively. He can’t stop the smile that spreads across his face. “You want to  _ marry  _ me.”

 

“I thought that was obvious, too.”

 

Simon leans forward and presses a kiss to Bram’s forehead. “It was kind of obvious,” he admits softly. “But you didn’t have to ruin the surprise.”

 

He’s still close enough to Bram that he can feel his eyelashes flutter as Bram opens his eyes in confusion. He’s smiling, so hard and so wide, and nothing else in the world has ever felt like this. Still holding Bram’s face in his hands, Simon trails kisses along his forehead, cheekbones, jawline, until he finally presses his lips softly against Bram’s. “The ring you found was for Garrett,” Simon murmurs. “This one was for you.”

 

He’s had the ring for years, if he’s being honest. He’s had it since the day Bram got accepted into law school. It’s nothing fancy, a silver band with an engraving on the inside. The engraving was a recent addition—delicate script that read:  _ we never stop surprising one another. _

 

“Oh,” says Bram, gentle. Then he looks back up at Simon quickly. “ _ Yes _ .”

 

Simon giggles. “I haven’t even asked yet, goofball.”

 

“Oh,” says Bram again. His voice is awestruck.

 

“Bram,” Simon starts.

 

“ _ Yes. _ ”

 

“Abraham,” Simon sighs. He takes Bram’s hand. “I’m so in love with you. I have been for so long. I’ve fallen in love with you a dozen different ways, for a million reasons, and you keep giving me reasons to fall all over again. You told me once—well, you told the school, but—that the point of all of this is to find a shore worth swimming to. And I found more than that, when I found you. I found a home. I found a stable place to land. I found things I never expected to plan. And I want to spend the rest of my life finding ways to surprise you.”

 

Bram is breathless, but smiling, and his hand is warm and solid and Simon is going to hold it for the  _ rest of his life. _

 

“Abraham Greenfeld,” continues Simon.

 

“Yes, yes,” Bram says quickly. Simon doesn’t try to stop the laugh that bubbles out of him.

 

“Let me  _ ask, _ ” Simon whines. He kisses Bram’s fingers. “Bram. Will you marry me?”

 

Bram’s smile is bright enough to illuminate the entire world, for the rest of eternity. And Simon gets to  _ have  _ that, have this amazing and beautiful and vibrant boy, forever.

 

“Yes,” Bram says again, and he kisses Simon.

 

They’re laughing and maybe they’re crying a little bit, but Simon is bursting at the seams with excitement and hope and nothing else really matters. Bram hugs him tightly, Bram cries when Simon puts the ring on his finger, Bram Bram Bram. Simon still can’t get enough of him.

 

“I love you so much,” Bram whispers, kissing Simon’s nose.

 

“I love you more,” Simon responds.

 

“No way,” Bram says. And he kisses Simon again and again.

  
  
  


Later, when they’ve eaten dinner, after they’ve called their friends, they collapse on the couch. Simon leans into Bram’s chest, perfectly content. Bram plays with Simon’s hair—and faintly, Simon can feel the cold metal of the ring. And his heart is full.

 

“Bram?” Simon murmurs. Bram makes a noise. “Was that all of your songs?”

 

Bram laughs. “No,” he admits. “I had an arsenal of songs in case you kept being oblivious. The next one was The Bleachers.”

 

“That would have got my attention.”

 

“Because you have a crush on Jack Antonoff?” asks Bram.

 

“Mmm,” Simon agrees tiredly. “I have a bigger crush on you, though.”

 

Bram kisses his forehead.

 

Faintly, he hears the song start to play, and he smiles as Bram puts his phone on the table and lets the song fill the air. He shifts closer to Bram, closes his eyes, and feels content.

 

_ let’s get married—sit down, breathe, and just listen. _

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me [here](https://tonytangredis.tumblr.com/).
> 
> comment, kudos, bookmark below!


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